Title: Shreds of Regret
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Fandom: Hannibal
Rating: PG-13
Table: Quotables Part 2, tv_universe
Prompt: "Now you've made your choice, and you're going to regret it forever."
Author's Note: Sequel to "Be My Downfall."
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Hannibal Lecter or Will Graham, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.
***
He didn't want to think about the words that had followed him as he'd left Hannibal.Will shoved his hands into his pockets as he strode through the park, breathing the crisp air deeply into his lungs and hoping that it would invigorate him.
He still felt as though he were in something of a dream world, a world that didn't seem quite real, a misty haze all around him. He felt as though he was swimming through thick, heavy syrup.
He didn't want to think about those words, the last words that Hannibal would probably ever say to him. He didn't want to think about the truth behind them, the way they cut into his consciousness, like a knife that sliced through his guts and spilled them out for all the world to see.
"Now you've made your choice, and you're going to regret it forever." Will knew that those words would stay in his head for the rest of his life.
They were burned into his mind; they would never go away. And they were indeed true. He would always feel some regrets over the choice that he'd made.
But what choice had he been given, really? There had been no choice at all.
If he hadn't tried to stop Hannibal, to put him behind bars, more innocent people would have died. And he would have known what Hannibal was doing.
That would have made him complicit in the murders. He wouldn't have been as guilty of them as Hannibal was, but he would still have been a part of it.
Will didn't want that on his conscience. He didn't want to believe that he could have turned his back on what Hannibal was doing, that he could have let such a monstrous killer go on taking the lives of innocents. Hannibal believed that he would have done so, but Will knew better.
Hannibal hadn't really bought his act. He knew that now. He should have realized that was the case when he was in the throes of it. He should have known that he wasn't that good an actor.
But still, he'd been the winner of their cat-and-mouse game in the end, hadn't he? He was free, and Hannibal was the one who'd ended up behind bars for the rest of his life.
Why didn't he get the satisfaction that should be his with that knowledge? Why was there this small kernel of regret hidden somewhere deep within him, a regret that he'd had to use such wiles to defeat Hannibal? If the tables had been turned, he knew that his adversary would have no regrets at all.
That was the difference between himself and Hannibal. He could weigh his choices, make what he knew was the right decision, and still be human enough to feel some guilt.
Hannibal didn't have that kind of compassion within him. The only thing he understood was satisfying his own desires, and to hell with anyone who got in the way of that satisfaction.
Hannibal was a monster. Will wasn't. It was as simple as that.
He'd had no other choice but to turn Hannibal in to the authorities. Anyone with any decency would have done so; he'd just done it in a roundabout way, that was all.
What did it matter? Will told himself with a soft sigh. He had achieved his aim; he'd been the winner in their deadly game, in the end. Hannibal was where he belonged, and where he would stay.
But there would always be that little trickle of regret, a fervent wish that things could have been different, that Hannibal hadn't been the monster he was and that there could have been something more between them. A part of him would always wonder if that could have been.
No, it couldn't have, he told himself firmly, pushing that regret down and slamming a door closed on it. Hannibal was a monster, a murderer, and he wasn't going to change.
There was no use thinking about what couldn't be. He couldn't change the past, and he'd done what he had to do. That was all. It was over and done.
Though the shreds of regret would always linger at the edges of his mind.
***
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